Lately, in gratitude and aware of gratitude, I have been complaining and grumbling about the manna.
I wanted nothing more than to be a mama. And here I am with the gift of interminable laundry, interminable dishes, interminable teenage hunger, socks, unheeded alarms and the other interminables and I forgot:
It's good. I have. I love. I may need only pay attention.
Modeled by the Patient, Loving One.
With blood and sore feet and holes in His hands.
I can face the interminable with great joy and know that it connects me, in some small sacrifice, to eternal Love.